2019 August – EC2WC: San Diego, CA to Pittsburgh, PA (Part 01)
For years, two road trips lived quietly on my bucket list—like unfinished sentences. One, a bold drive from the Mexican border to the Canadian border, which I completed in the summer of 2016—solo, raw, and unforgettable. The other was the classic coast-to-coast journey, still waiting for the right moment.
That moment arrived—not as a plan, but as a transition.
After more than thirteen years in San Diego, life began to shift eastward. A new opportunity in Pittsburgh set relocation in motion. At the same time, with summer break approaching and a promise made to my daughter, what started as a practical move slowly evolved into something more meaningful—the first leg of a long-awaited coast-to-coast drive.
This wasn’t how I had imagined it. I had once pictured a leisurely journey across iconic destinations—perhaps along the Atlantic coast or up to Acadia National Park, with time for camping and detours. Instead, I chose to split the dream into two parts:
Part one: San Diego to Pittsburgh.
Part two: Pittsburgh to Niagara Falls and/or Maine.
The drive ahead was substantial—around 2,500 miles and 37 hours. Among the possible routes, one stood out:
California → Utah → Colorado → Kansas → Missouri → Illinois → Indiana → Ohio → West Virginia → Pennsylvania
The choice balanced simplicity and scenery. From Interstate 15 near home, it was almost effortless—connect to Interstate 70 and follow it most of the way. More importantly, the stretch through Utah and Colorado promised some of the most striking landscapes in the country.
I planned the journey with structure—roughly nine hours of driving per day—but constraints quickly reshaped expectations. Work didn’t allow extra days, forcing me to skip nearby icons like Moab and parts of the Rockies. Close on the map, but out of reach in time.
Still, the nature of the trip changed the moment my family joined. What began as a relocation drive became something shared—less about distance, more about experience.
This wasn’t just a drive across states.
It was a shift—
from West Coast familiarity to East Coast beginnings,
from solo travel to family memories,
from long-held plans to lived moments.
The day before departure felt less like anticipation and more like controlled chaos. Packing became a process of prioritization—what to carry now, what to leave behind. This wasn’t a typical trip; it was a temporary bridge between two phases of life.
The plan was layered. My family would spend a week in Pittsburgh, exploring neighborhoods and getting a feel for a city that might soon become home. After that, they would fly back to San Diego, while I stayed back—possibly working remotely—leaving the car behind as a quiet marker of transition. The full relocation would follow later in the year.
In many ways, this was unfamiliar ground. I had first arrived in the U.S. through Detroit, but quickly moved west. California had been home ever since. The East Coast was still new—less known, less experienced.
So the journey became more than a drive. It was a moving lens—observing cities, landscapes, and possibilities along the way. Part road trip, part reconnaissance. A family adventure on the surface, but underneath, a quiet search for where we belong next.
Day 1 : San Diego, CA to Beaver, UT
We packed with intention and restraint. Not too heavy, not too full—just enough to stay comfortable on the road. Empty space mattered as much as what we carried.
The plan was to start early, as always. But like most trips, we eased into motion closer to noon. It’s almost a pattern now—no matter the intent, the road begins when it’s ready.
Our approach to driving remained simple: move with daylight. As evening approached, we would stop, assess, and decide where to stay. No rigid bookings—just a flexible rhythm shaped by distance and energy.
For me, the excitement lies in the unfamiliar. Except for the stretch between San Diego and Las Vegas, nearly every mile ahead was new. Driving isn’t just transit—it’s observation. Terrain, light, elevation, and sky—each region tells its own story.
Interstate 15 would eventually give way to Interstate 70, especially through Utah and Colorado, where the drive itself becomes the destination—red rock canyons, mountain passes, and vast open skies.
And one rule carried over from my earlier border-to-border journey: no driving after dark.
Not out of caution alone, but intent. Daylight reveals the land—the textures and depth that disappear at night. Darkness narrows the experience; light expands it. So, we set out—not perfectly on schedule, but exactly as we needed to ready to let the road unfold, mile by mile.
Finally, we called it a day about 15–20 minutes before reaching the Interstate 70 junction, still along Interstate 15. It felt like the right balance—pushing just enough without overextending.
There’s a small ritual I always follow at the end of a driving day: fill up the tank before heading to the hotel. It’s a simple habit, but it makes a big difference. No searching for gas in the morning, no delays—just a clean start.
The next day begins lighter that way. Wake up, get ready, sit in the car, and drive. No friction, no decisions—just the road waiting ahead.
Day 2 — Into the Heart of the West
Day two began simply—wake up, breakfast, pack some coffee and tea, and get moving. The rhythm of the road was settling in.
Just as we were about to start, work followed me onto the highway. My recruiting manager called, asking me to wait while they sorted out documentation and onboarding logistics. There was urgency around medical reports—they wanted everything cleared even before I officially started. At one point, they were even exploring whether I could stop somewhere along Interstate 70 in Colorado to get a checkup done mid-journey.
I waited for over an hour. Eventually, I told them to assess feasibility and update me later. There was only so much I could pause a cross-country drive. With that, we resumed the journey, back to the plan.
And then—the drive began to reward us.
The stretch along I-70 through Utah and Colorado truly lives up to its reputation. It’s not just scenic—it’s immersive. Vast red rock landscapes near Moab slowly give way to rising terrain, eventually unfolding into the dramatic mountain corridors of Colorado.
We paused briefly near Moab Junction for a quick break and a bite—nothing long, just enough to stretch and reset. Lunch, we decided, would be somewhere deeper into Colorado.
Inside the car, the air conditioning kept us comfortable, almost insulated from the outside world. But every time we stepped out, the reality hit instantly—the desert heat was intense, heavy, and unrelenting. After one fuel stop, it turned into a quick ritual: ice cream for my daughter, something cold for us, and back on the road without wasting time.
We passed through Grand Junction and Glenwood Springs without stopping, deciding instead to combine fuel, food, and rest into one efficient break. Then, near Eagle, a familiar sign changed the mood instantly—a Costco.
Suddenly, everyone had energy again.
We pulled over at a nearby gas station. While filling up, I spotted a Domino’s Pizza—perfect timing. We ordered pizza, then walked into Costco to stretch our legs and reset. It turned into one of those unplanned but satisfying stops that road trips often gift you.
During the break, I checked back with my recruiting manager. This time, the message was simple—complete the medical reports after reaching Pittsburgh. That one update lifted a weight off my mind. The drive felt lighter again.
Back on the road, the goal was clear: cross Denver and find a place to stop for the night.
The stretch from Colorado’s western border to just before Denver was easily one of the highlights of the entire trip—mountains rising around us, highways winding through valleys, and views that demanded attention at every turn. It’s the kind of drive where you don’t rush—you absorb.
By the time we passed Denver, the sun was already setting. Driving east has its own challenge—the daylight fades faster than you expect. Shadows stretched quickly, and within minutes, the brightness softened into dusk.
We kept checking with each other—should we stop here? Or push a little further?
It became a familiar pattern: “Let’s go till the next gas stop.”
Then again, “Maybe one more.”
Every 5–10 minutes, we passed another exit, another option, and chose to continue. Until finally, a highway sign brought clarity—the Kansas state border was near.
That decided it.
We crossed into Goodland and decided to stop there for the night—wrapping up a long, rewarding day filled with delays, dramatic landscapes, desert heat, quick food stops, small stresses, and stretches of pure driving joy.
At the time, we didn’t realize that Goodland is home to the World's Largest Easel—a massive installation featuring a reproduction of Sunflowers by Vincent van Gogh. It was already night when we arrived, so we missed it completely. Only later did we learn about it, adding a small note of “next time” to the journey—one of those hidden roadside landmarks you pass by without knowing, until the trip is already behind you.
Day 3 — Across the Heartland
Day three was a different rhythm entirely. After the mountains and canyons of Colorado, the road east of Denver flattened out, stretching endlessly across farm fields and open landscapes. The scenery was relatively dull, dry, and wide—more plains than mountains—but the road had its own rhythm, rising and dipping like a gentle roller coaster.
Even with GPS on, I used it only as a reference rather than a strict guide. The plan was simple: stay on I-70 all the way to Pennsylvania. The GPS kept suggesting alternate routes to avoid traffic, but I preferred the direct highway. Crossing through Kansas City brought the usual slowdown, yet the drive still allowed some glimpses of the late afternoon sun. The flat terrain made the day smoother—less strain than mountain driving, though the landscape felt very different from the West.
By late afternoon, we reached St. Louis. We hadn’t realized that the iconic St. Louis Arch was downtown. Otherwise, we might have stayed nearby to explore; it felt like a missed opportunity, something to plan for next time. As the last light faded while crossing the St. Louis Bridge, we entered Illinois, scanning for signs of hotels or gas stations.
Surprisingly, nothing appeared. No billboards, no bright lights—only the dark silhouettes of trees along the roadside. Coming from California, it felt unfamiliar and a little unsettling. After driving about an hour in the dark, I decided: the next exit, whatever it was, we’d take it and figure out the night.
The exit led us a few miles into a quiet area before we finally spotted a gas station. We filled up, then booked a hotel just a mile or so away. Dinner was picked up from the same complex—a small, practical ritual before rest. Driving in darkness had taken its toll. By the time we reached the hotel, exhaustion settled in, and sleep was the only thing on my mind.
Day four was comparatively relaxed. We woke up relatively early, and for the first time in the trip, looking at the map made the day feel easy—less than eight hours of driving lay ahead. The pace naturally slowed; we drove more leisurely than on previous days, and our breaks stretched a little longer. Some stops turned into small adventures of their own, exploring local shops and picking up souvenirs along the way.
Traffic was smooth, and the miles seemed to pass quickly. To our surprise, we crossed four states in a single day—a feat that had never happened on our drives across the West, even on longer days of travel. Along the way, we passed through Indianapolis and Columbus, the familiar hum of highways giving way gradually to the neighborhoods of Pennsylvania.
We finally arrived in Pittsburgh in the late evening, with plenty of light still left. By this point, the monotony of fast food and non-desi cuisine on the road had worn on us. So we made a deliberate choice: find a local desi grocery store, pick up some curries, vegetables, and rice, and cook a meal in our hotel room. From that moment on, one condition became clear for future Pittsburgh stays—hotels with kitchens would be essential for family visits.
Our hotel was in Carnegie, just a short drive from downtown Pittsburgh. Distance-wise, without traffic, it was no more than 15 minutes. In hindsight, had we planned the trip knowing Pittsburgh better, we might have opted to stay north of the city or closer to downtown, which is small, vibrant, and very lively. Even so, after days on the road, settling in and cooking a home-style meal felt like the perfect welcome to our new city.
